Director of Photography Department of Huayu

Chapter 540 Premiere, Remember Them!
The buzz surrounding the announcement of the cast for Interstellar has subsided for several days, but the hype remains undiminished.

Wu Chen was holed up in his study, pondering the filming plans for "Interstellar," when the phone rang.

It's Zhang Yi.

"What, another congratulatory call?" Wu Chen answered with a smile, wondering what Zhang Yi wanted to say.

Zhang Yi had already called on the day the lineup was announced.

"Director, I'd like another invitation. A friend of mine wants to attend the premiere of '1939'."

Wu Chen's eyes narrowed slightly, then he nodded: "A little more is fine too."

Seeing this, Zhang Yi got excited: "Then I'll lead a company. Back when I was in the military region's drama troupe..."

"roll"

Wu Chen laughed and scolded.

The phone call ended, and the light from outside gradually crept into the room.

With less than a week until the release of "1939", preparations for the premiere are already in full swing.

After several meetings, China Film Group and August First Film Studio almost unanimously made the same request—to hold the premiere at the Military Museum of the Chinese People's Revolution.

“This is the most suitable place,” Han Sanping said decisively. “The historical weight of the film must resonate with the atmosphere of this venue.”

Wu Chen naturally had no objection to this, and turned to Ming Zhenjiang: "Director Ming, I'll leave the veterans' invitation to the August 1st Army."

"Don't worry, we'll try our best to invite them."

Ming Zhenjiang nodded, but did not make an absolute guarantee, because some people's bodies could not withstand the fatigue of travel.

Soon, the invitations were printed in batches and quickly distributed.

Zhang Yimou had seen it, but he was about to start filming "Under the Hawthorn Tree" and naturally didn't have time, so he made a special call back to Wu Chen.

The premiere was scheduled for April 21, two days before the film's release.

The Military Museum's grand hall, with its ample capacity, decided to open a larger number of visitors.

Some tickets were even drawn through the Weibo platform.

The news immediately sparked a lively discussion online.

"Haha, I'm so unlucky with winning prizes, but I actually won!"

"Perfect! Ready to head from Shijiazhuang to Beijing!"

"Director Wu is really generous, releasing so many tickets for the lottery!"

"Damn it, I didn't get one. The scalpers are starting to hype it up again. It's infuriating; they're selling them for over a thousand yuan each!"

"."

In the discussion forum, excitement and complaints were mixed, and the level of discussion continued to rise.

Wu Chen was also surprised to receive a call from the Beijing Film Academy, personally from Mu Deyuan, who requested a large number of invitation letters.

"The cinematography teachers are all clamoring to see your pseudo-one-shot war film. Maybe next year we'll have to include your case study in our teaching materials."
"A lot of people from the directing department are coming too; they're all waiting to see your blockbuster that won the Golden Bear."

Mu Deyuan was particularly looking forward to the film, even more so than the rest of the students in the academy.

If "1939" is exactly as advertised in Berlin;
Therefore, the film is very likely to be included in the teaching materials of world film history in the next few years.

This also shows that he taught a student who could be included in film history textbooks.

This sense of accomplishment is incomparable to any award.

After Mu Deyuan said that, even Wu Chen became more expectant.

The premiere of "1939" arrived quietly as time went by, and the entertainment sections of major portal websites had reported on it several days in advance.

Many production companies and theater chains are eyeing this film, but their expectations are completely different.

The former wanted to see how far Wu Chen's films could go in terms of box office appeal, so that they could have a mental estimate if they were to clash with Wu Chen's films in the future.

Theaters only wish for one outcome: a massive hit, the bigger the better.

April 21st.

The traffic on the extended Chang'an Avenue gleamed metallically in the sunlight, and on the south bank of Yuyuantan Park, the Military Museum of the Chinese People's Revolution was hosting an extraordinary event.

This building, completed in 1959, was once the tallest landmark in the capital. Over the past fifty years, it has received 160 million visitors and left behind countless memories of revolutionary history.

Now, it is hosting the premiere of a film about the Northeast Anti-Japanese United Army.
The huge poster in the center of the square was particularly eye-catching in the sunlight.

Against a backdrop of dark snow-covered forest, the silhouette of a messenger prone in low crouch, a searchlight beam piercing through the shadows, resembles a giant "search net," with the large red characters "1939" looming in the center, exuding a chilling and solemn aura.
A guiding route was set up in the wide square, and the five-star red flag hanging high in front of the building fluttered in the wind, coming into view together with the magnificent building under the blue sky.
Unlike typical commercial film promotions, the premiere of "1939" did not feature a red carpet or any elaborate star-studded event.

Most of the attendees were ordinary viewers and invited veterans—several of whom were actual soldiers who had participated in the Northeast Anti-Japanese United Army.

As the elderly people, dressed in neat Zhongshan suits, entered the venue with assistance, the surrounding crowd spontaneously parted to make way for them, their eyes filled with respect.
Security checks at the entrance were extremely strict. Reporters had to show their credentials one by one to pass through, while the audience lined up in a long, orderly fashion.

"It feels so different!"

"I've attended many premieres, but this is the first time I've felt such a sense of solemnity from the very beginning."

"I can't wait to watch the movie."

"."

In the spacious hall, everyone lowered their voices as they talked, seemingly trying to control their volume, as if no one wanted to break the solemn atmosphere.

The professors from the cinematography and directing departments of the Beijing Film Academy also felt a slight, indescribable shock when they arrived.

"Teachers, this way please." Wu Chen led Zhang Yi and Li Gan to greet them.

"Please don't assign us the first row, it's too much pressure. I think some leaders from the military region and the bureau are coming today."

Mu Deyuan seemed to be joking, subtly reminding him.

"There's a special area for scholars, and other experts and scholars there, who study history."

Upon hearing this, Tian Zhuangzhuang was somewhat surprised: "Oh, aren't you afraid of being criticized for your historical war films? These scholars can always find flaws in them."

"I'm not afraid. Before filming, I interviewed many veterans of the Northeast Anti-Japanese United Army and even found several real-life figures who were based on them. All the details have been verified as historically accurate."

"It's good to have confidence, but if they dare to criticize you, don't worry, the teachers will help you fight back."

Mu Deyuan patted Wu Chen on the shoulder, and then entered the hall with the others.

Shortly after Mu Deyuan and the others entered the inner hall, Chen Sicheng arrived, and Zhang Yi specially introduced him to Wu Chen.
"Director Wu, this is my friend Chen Sicheng." Chen Sicheng almost bowed slightly as he extended his hand: "Director Wu, hello, hello!"

Wu Chen shook his hand and smiled in response, "Hello, welcome, welcome!"

This simple greeting made Chen Sicheng visibly relieved.

Zhang Yi then put his arm around Chen Sicheng's shoulder and led him into the inner hall, lowering his voice as they walked:
“Your matter isn’t urgent. We can talk about it after the premiere. Director Wu said that to my face and Baoqiang’s face, and he definitely won’t go back on his word.”

"Uh-huh."

Chen Sicheng nodded repeatedly. Compared to the other moviegoers, he came with pressure. But when he entered the inner hall and saw the number of people and the lineup of the audience, he couldn't help but gasp.

The vast auditorium of the Military Museum was packed with people, including leaders from the military region, leaders from the State Administration of Radio, Film and Television, veterans of the Northeast Anti-Japanese United Army, leading directors and experts in the industry, professors from academia, and media reporters, all of whom sat quietly.

"Isn't it amazing?" Zhang Yi looked up at the scene, also with a hint of shock.

"Ok!"

Chen Sicheng's eyes couldn't hide his longing; he also wanted to one day have such a grand occasion, even if it was only half as grand.
At this moment, Han Sanping and Ming Zhenjiang in the inner hall each had their own tasks.

Because each of them was seated next to a different leader, the people from the General Administration appeared much calmer.

After all, "1939" is a key film this year. Various special meetings have been held before, and most of the information is already clear. Today is just the official public debut.

On the other side, Ming Zhenjiang was noticeably busier.

The people sitting next to him were all "tough guys" from his direct lineage.

As the director of the August First Film Studio, he had to explain the details of the film's preparation one by one, including how the August First Film Studio participated, how the historical facts were restored, and why the Military Museum chose this day for the premiere.
At this moment, the lights in the Military Museum auditorium were dimmed, and the stage was simply decorated, without any ostentatious ornamentation, only a solemn backdrop with the striking red words: "Premiere of '1939'".

Host Yang Lan slowly walked onto the stage.

She wore a simple, dark-colored long dress, without any unnecessary accessories, and her voice was gentle yet firm:

"Today, we are here to celebrate the premiere of a film about the Northeast Anti-Japanese United Army."

It's not just a film, but a retrospective of history. More than seventy years ago, those young people, with their blood and will, left behind the hope of a new dawn for the nation. And today, we approach them once again through film.

As soon as he finished speaking, applause broke out. There was no boisterous cheering, but it carried a deep and resonant power.

Subsequently, Wu Chen, Han Sanping, and Ming Zhenjiang led Zhang Yi and Li Gan onto the stage.

Unlike previous commercial film premieres, the applause this time was more enthusiastic than ever.
As the director and screenwriter, Wu Chen naturally stood at the forefront.

He picked up the microphone, paused for a few seconds, and then spoke.

"Before filming '1939,' I interviewed many veterans of the Northeast Anti-Japanese United Army and also read through a lot of materials."

What deeply moved me was that countless messengers throughout history left no trace, no tombstones, yet their footsteps, their running silhouettes, changed the destiny of an entire nation.

The auditorium was completely silent.

Wu Chen continued, "So this movie is not about the victory or defeat of a grand war, but about experiencing the sense of mission of that time through the eyes of two messengers."

The message must not be interrupted, just as memory must not be interrupted. May we remember those nameless people, and may we continue to move forward.

As the last sentence fell, the entire audience erupted in applause.

The lights went out, and the screen lit up.

The film's opening scene, with its cold wind, snowy forest, and deep drumbeats, instantly transports the audience to the world of 1939.

The professors at Beijing Film Academy were the first to hold their breath.

Mu Deyuan leaned forward slightly, his fingers gripping the armrest.

Tian Zhuangzhuang barely dared to blink.

As the camera zoomed in inch by inch, their brows furrowed deeper and their breathing became heavier.

“No trace.” Tian Zhuangzhuang murmured softly.

"This is a true pseudo-one-shot film." The photography professor standing nearby barely dared to blink, and couldn't help but glance at the person next to him.

They knew that if the entire film were like this, it would become a brand-new teaching case for cinematography, worthy of being included in film history textbooks.

The audience members didn't understand the technical aspects, but they were quickly swept up in the atmosphere.

In the film, Huang Xiaoshan and Wei Sanpao's run pierces the darkness, leaving the audience breathless.

As Huang Xiaoshan faced the morning light, covered in blood but desperately moving forward, a suffocating silence descended upon the arena.

Countless viewers had tears in their eyes. An old soldier sitting in the middle row trembled as he raised his withered fingers and gently tapped the screen, his eyes glistening with tears.

Then, clutching the letter, Huang Xiaoshan broke through the blockade in the dawn light torn apart by gunfire, fell to the ground, and shouted: "Report! Wei Sanpao's mission is complete!"

The piercing voice burst into the theater.

Some audience members couldn't help but sob, and a young woman gripped her knees tightly, tears streaming down her face.

The veterans clenched their fists, as if those days had returned to their memories.

The atmosphere in the press area was equally somber.

The film critic, who was usually quick to find fault and offer sarcastic remarks, now held his pen on the paper, but hesitated to put it down.
The film is coming to an end.

The final credits appeared on the screen:

"From 1931 to 1945, countless Chinese messengers rushed through the flames of war, nameless and without graves, yet they used their blood and flesh to usher in the dawn for the nation."

Black background with white text, slowly fading away.

The auditorium fell into complete silence.

For a full few seconds, it felt as if the air had been sucked out.

Suddenly, a loud "clap" rang out from a corner, and then swept across the entire venue like a flash flood.

The audience stood up in unison, applauding continuously until their palms turned red, but no one stopped.

Some people clapped and wiped away tears, their shoulders trembling slightly.

The reporters could no longer maintain their "professional composure"; some had their glasses fogged up, while others simply looked up at the sky.

In the front row, a white-haired veteran suddenly shouted, "Remember them!"

The emotions of the entire audience were completely ignited.

Applause, tears, and shouts mingled together, lingering for a long time.
(End of this chapter)